Life Like Death
by aquabeth424
Summary: Martin's life is hell. With no memory and no records, he is a phantom at the orphanage. It doesn't help that his OCD makes him a prime target for bullying. If only he could remember how he got the scars that littered his body or even what his real name is. Slight AU Amnesic!KidxMaka ON HIATUS FOR BBC MERLIN FEST
1. Chapter 1

**Fandom: Soul Eater**

**Ship: Death the Kid x Maka**

**Prompt from friend: One of them loses their memory**

**Summary: Martin's life is hell. With no memory and no records, he is a phantom at the orphanage. It doesn't help that his OCD makes him a prime target for bullying. If only he could remember how he got the scars that littered his body or even what his real name is.**

* * *

_Darkness. I couldn't seem to lift my eyes open, couldn't move my body. What had happened? I didn't remember. Who am I? Was I ever anyone? I couldn't recall a single fact about anything. As I drifted, the darkness seemed to cling to me, growing darker if that was even possible. I soon lost all sense of thought, the darkness separating me from my body._

* * *

Its been a month since I woke up in a hospital. One month since they diagnosed me with memory loss and one month since they stuck me in an adoption center. They said I was almost too old for the center, but not old enough to live on my own. I was quite suspicious, though. They had no DNA or fingerprint records. It was like I had appeared from no where.

I looked in the mirror, my blue eyes and jet black hair still unsettling me. Something always triggered my memory when I looked at my reflection. It never looked quite right. My OCD drove everyone insane. They laugh at me, call me freak and emo. I don't know why, but the color black comforts me, it feels like the home I can't remember.

"Hey, Martin! Freak, you look asymmetrical today!" Some kid jeered at me as I passed. Lunch was unsatisfying, but we weren't starving. "How are you today?" Anthony was one of the only person who tried to understand me. He was near my age, slightly shorter than me with light brown hair and eyes a darker shade. We weren't friends per say, but we watched each other's backs and tried to converse here and there. "I'm fine. Yourself?" He muttered a nondescript reply and went back to devouring what was left on his plate. We finished eating around the same time and went our separate ways. He had cleaning duty, I had laundry to do. The day passed like every other, the routine's only variable was which chore was assigned to you that day. Occasionally, we would have somebody walk around and observe us, sometimes a young couple. I was never chosen, as I was seen as a high risk kid. I looked to emo, was a teenager, and there were too many unknowns. Who am I, how did I lose my memory, am I sickly, and the like. As far as health, the doctors couldn't find any sign of sickness, but I had fading scars from injuries. Those puzzled them the most. Each was distinct. Some looked clean and smooth, like they were caused by swords or scalpels, others looked more jagged, like a rusty knife carved through my skin. Obviously I had led a dangerous life, or maybe I had abusing parents. I wasn't sure.

* * *

I had just finished my shower. The sun had barely began to rise when I was shook out of the deep recesses of my mind. "Whoa!" I turned to face Tyler. He was a fairly quite kid and had never really talked to me. We both had breakfast duty this morning. He had caught me without my shirt on, my scars visible in the light of dawn coming through the shared bathroom's window. "I know they picked you up from the hospital, but some of these look old." His fingers traced the air, gesturing to summer of the scars on my left side. "How did you get them?" He was one of the younger kids at the orphanage, only 6, but was vastly intelligent. He looked up at me like I was a god, his gaze full of wonder and awe. His blue eyes and dirty blond hair framed his cupid face, plump with the misleading innocence that not many here actually possessed. "I don't know." I knew that he would understand. There where many rumors about me and my circumstances. "Oh, sorry man. I didn't realize you where the one who lost your memory." He looked honestly sorry, but his curiosity was not satisfied, simply buried under brief remorse. I mixed my head and finished getting changed, letting Tyler have the bathroom to himself.

I headed down the hallway to the kitchen, my depressing situation none the better.

**AN: This is my first attempt at fanfiction so I hope you enjoyed it. Should I continue it? Helpful criticism is encouraged, but no hate please.**


	2. Chapter 2

_I headed down the hallway to the kitchen, my depressing situation none the better._

"What are you doing?" Some kid, Johnathon I think, glared at me. "The food must be symmetrical." He rolled his eyes and muttered 'freak'.

There was an unusual visitor today. An odd man with white hair and weird… tattoos? I couldn't tell for sure, but he seemed to be searching for someone specific, as he barely glanced at half of the kids. His eyes meet mine and he smiled. It was almost predatory and I shivered under the man's scrutiny. He began walking towards me, when his face morphed into one of confusion, then disappointment. When he left without another glance, I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"What a creep." Tyler whispered to me. He decided to sit on the other side of me. Anthony shot me a quizzical look when he first sat down, then decided he didn't care and went back to eating. It seemed like he never stopped. I found myself silently agreeing with Tyler. The man unnerved everyone. Anthony paused his eating, his face turned to me slightly. "He looked interested in you, Martin. Think you might've known him? You know, before you lost your memory?" I had asked myself that question earlier, but I couldn't stand the asymmetrical man with the predatory gaze. "I hope I didn't and I wish to never see such an asymmetrical, unnatural man again."

* * *

"Did you find him?" Liz asked with pure desperation. Maka, Black*Star, and their weapons looked at Stein expectingly. He shook his head slowly. "I checked within a 3 mile radius where he was last seen. I thought I saw him at an orphanage-" Liz cut him off, "Are you sure it wasn't him?" "The soul was human and even though he had the same facial structure, he had blue eyes and no sanzu lines. Just a human, it wasn't him. I'm sorry, everyone." The group visibly deflated with the bad news. "Kiddo…" Patty had tears in her eyes.

The group disbanded, all silently grieving on their own way. Black*Star and Tsubaki trained vigorously, pretending that getting stronger would bring their friend back. Liz and Patty curled up at home, crying silently and holding and comforting each other, the loss of their meister and brother nearly driving them to madness. Soul went to the court to shoot some hoops; crying would be so uncool. Maka sat on the couch reading the same paragraph in her book over and over, pretending that the trail of tears that ran down her face were nonexistent.

Kid had been missing for over two months. Lord Death sent Stein and Spirit to thoroughly search the area were he was last seen in, steadily extending the radius until it was obvious that Kid was no longer there.

A witch.

That's all it took. One witch wiped him off the map. Lord Death was confident that Kid want dead, saying he would know if his son was gone. The Death Scythes around the world were conducting their own searches within their own jurisdiction. No one had any hint at where he could possibly be.

Eventually they had to stop searching and continue with their duties, kishin eggs didn't stop appearing just because someone was missing. It was hard at first, even Black*Star, the forever optimist, was shaken to his core with sadness. Liz and Patty didn't remember anything; they remember going to fight the witch, then darkness. They woke up in the hospital in Death City. Other than some bruises and shallow cuts, they were physically unscathed. Their minds, however, were tainted and required extensive healing. This witch was more powerful than they expected.

"So, what do you think that bitch did to Kid?" Soul had returned to the flat and posed the question that no one wanted to hear. He was met with a meek reply:

"I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

_"So, what do you think that bitch did to Kid?" Soul had returned to the flat and posed the question that no one wanted to hear. He was met with a meek reply: "I don't know."_

* * *

I looked in the mirror, my ash blond hair falling over my shoulder. Spreading my hair, I began tying it in pigtails. "Oi, tiny-tits! I need to pee, so hurry up! This is so uncool..." Soul was met with silence. "He's been missing for a while, Maka. I don't think he's coming back."

"Shut up!" I opened the door and hit him with a dictionary. "You know what's uncool? Abandoning friends!" When I calmed down, Soul embraced me.

"I know, but there isn't much we can do."

"We could look for him." I pulled back and looked at him with all the conviction I could muster. "I know Stein tried, but maybe, just maybe, we could do better. He's our friend, Soul. We'll find that witch and force the truth from her."

Soul sighed, "Maka, if the son of Lord Death couldn't defeat this witch, then I don't think we will do any better. You're my meister, I can't let you recklessly rush into a situation that will get you killed." We pulled apart and set off to Shibusen.

At dusk, Soul and I arrived at the small city where Kid was last seen, after successfully getting permission to conduct our own search. Walking down the street, my mind wandered, causing an unexpected meeting.

* * *

I snuck through the halls, the shadows clinging to me like I was their master. My steps were light, my breathing nonexistent. Reaching the front door, I picked the lock with practiced ease, the stolen bobby pin fitting into it's place with a faint click. I rarely, if ever, could sleep. Nights when my insomnia was working up, like tonight, I would escape to the streets. I simply strolled down the sidewalks, dashing into the shadows should anyone pass. I was always careful to make it back long before dawn, cautious that no one saw me. It wouldn't be wise to get caught.

That's when it happened. A flash of black highlighted with purple blinded me, my grip on reality fazing as the fragmented vision passed. When I opened my eyes, I was met with pain and confusion. I couldn't grasp what I was seeing, the only sound I heard was my blood pounding against my head. Everything was darker, two orbs advancing to me. As they got closer, I faintly angel, blue wings jutting out behind her, stopped in front of me. I realized I was kneeling, looking up at the beautiful sight before me. Then I collapsed, my eyes unaccustomed to the blinding light of an angel.

"...k? Are you ok?" I slowly lifted my head to meet her beauty. My vision returned to normal and her wings were not present, but I had no doubt that this was the angel. She was perfectly symmetrical, with blond pigtails and deep green eyes. Her companion, however, was repulsively unsymmetrical. His scarlet eyes looked down with disdain, the way he placed his pale body screamed protectiveness over the girl. Her eyes widened and she reached a hand out towards me, breathing an incomprehensible word. I grew afraid, for surely I was ruining this pure being with my corrupted presence. Scrambling to my feet, I muttered and apology and ran off, praying she wouldn't follow.

* * *

I watched him run. When he looked at me, it was a mix of fear and awe, a sort of reverence that I could not understand. Starting forward, I was stopped by the grip Soul had on my arm. He shook his head. "The best thing we can do to get Kid back is to find this witch, not chase lookalikes."

I sighed in defeat, "I know Soul, but he looked so much like him!" Soul and Stein were right, though. I scanned his soul and it was no different than the average person. I reluctantly followed him to the hotel.

We had two months to find Kid.

* * *

I ran to the entrance without stopping, my heart pounding. I slowed to a jog, finally stopping to open and relock the door behind me. Sneaking back to the room I shared with Anthony and a couple others, I reflected upon the sight which I had ran from.

That is, until Anthony pulled me into the room and hissed at me, "Where the hell have you been, Martin! I woke up and your bed was empty." The adrenaline from being pushed against the wall next to the door wore off, replaced with fatigue. "I couldn't sleep, I just went for a walk." I mumbled.

He let me down with a sigh, "Where? On the streets? Your insane, you know that?" I smiled at his annoyance and masked concern.

"Worried about me?"

"You wish." With the conversation over, we headed to our shared bunk bed, him climbing up top, and fell asleep. I dreamed of strange angels and demons, weapons and death.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Worried about me?" "You wish." With the conversation over, we headed to our shared bunk bed, him climbing up top, and fell asleep. I dreamed of strange angels and demons, weapons and death._

* * *

Somewhere, a small girl awoke with a gasp of terror. Wisps of her dark brown hair fell into her even darker brown eyes, but she was too scared to fix them. Jumping out of her bed, she ran out of her room into an adjacent one.

"No, no, please don't be true!" Her child-like voice pleaded to no one in particular. Grasping an odd quartz like crystal, she gazed into the opaque depths, the pale colors blurring into an image. There, lying in a flattened part of the crystal, was a boy with ebony hair and blue eyes. In front of him was a girl with ash hair and an young witch shook, silently praying that the shinigami's memories would not return, yet knowing that of they did, there would be no where for her to run to; she could do nothing about her inevitable death should he remember.

Only when the power faded from her senses did she relax. Picking up a black orb, she began chanting, her eyes gaining a purplish tint, her hair reflecting pink highlights. Out of the orb came a black mist which took the shape of a skull. It swirled around and the little witch reached out and swiped at it. It spread out in front of her, like a wall. Voices, faint and hard to discern, drifted from it.

"Ash blond haired girl with green eyes." The witch said to it, and the blackness took the form of a boy, black and constantly moving. It spoke in many tones, all of which belonged to Kid. A young voice, an older voice, and all the pitches in between, spoke at once, "Maka Albarn, fellow meister, wields the scythe Soul Evans, leader of my soul resonance team, friend." Then the mist dissipated, slowly swirling back in the orb of memories. The witch sat down on the floor, her eyes, betraying the confusion in her mind, shifted from left to right, trying to find the solution to the predicament she had just found herself in. Collapsing on the floor, she recast her soul protection.

* * *

"A meister named Maka is looking for the shinigami." I looked up through my bangs at my good friend.

"What's a meister, again?" She was, however, a simple human, but I guess that's what made it easy to be friends with her. Cocking her head to the side, long red hair splaying on the lunch table of our public school, we continued our conversation.

"A meister is someone who wields shape shifting weapons against kishin and witches, and there is another one here." I explained, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation.

"I thought you saw another meister and a death scythe a couple of days ago." She wasn't wrong. When that duo arrived, I thought I was going to die.

"Yes, but they didn't make the death god almost remember!" A couple of people sitting at the other end of the table glanced our way.

"Couldn't you just, I don't know, magic them away or something? You are a witch, Isis." She whispered, also noticing the unwanted attention. The people turned back to their lunch.

Amanda was the only person here who knew I was a witch. Mother had taught me before the meister's had gotten her. I was only five, but she said I had great potential and that I needed to defend myself. She died later that year, and my sister began teaching me. It's been three years since she died and my sister had left last year to get together with some of our kin.

It was right before Sissy left that she taught me how to alter memories. I was a natural, able to change, erase, store, and replace one's mind. When I told Amanda, my only friend at that time, that I was a witch, she let me practice on her.

"They could beat me easily, and if more people go missing, they'll find me quicker. I need to keep a low profile." "Soul? Soul!" He was lost in the bliss of dreams, the fog of sleep nearly impenetrable.

* * *

"Wake up, Soul!" Groaning, he sat up rubbing his eyes. It was already light out, the sun sitting high in the sky. By the time Maka and Soul arrived at the small place they rented, it was past midnight. Exhausted, they both fell onto their beds, asleep before they hit the pillow. Now, looking out the window, he realized how tired he really was last night.

"At least we slept. We can't fight a witch dead tired." They set out in the streets, Maka using her soul perception.

"I'm not seeing a witch anywhere h- wait!"

* * *

"Isis, please!" She looked at her friend and sighed. She never could turn away Amanda. "Alright." Releasing her soul protect for the second time that day, Isis summoned her friend's work from her locker, chastising her for forgetting it.

Unbeknown to Isis, Maka's head whipped in the direction of the local elementary school, the soul of a witch visible.


	5. Chapter 5

_Unbeknown to Isis, Maka's head whipped in the direction of the local elementary school, the soul of a witch visible._

* * *

"Soul." That one word conveyed the desperate need of a weapon, the desire for revenge, the burning passion of anger. Needing no other signal, the albino glowed blue, replaced by a scythe. Reaching out her hand, Maka caught her partner and was racing after the witch within seconds.

Dodging through streets and past buildings, the duo made steady progress. The soul then was contained, fit into a nice normal disguise, but it was too late for the witch. Maka already had her target picked out.

Releasing a battle cry, she swung her scythe down.

It never met it's target. Her emerald eyes grew wide with disbelief and fear at what she almost did. For there, cowering below the blade, was a girl no more than 8 years old. Tears streaked down her face, still fat with the innocence of childhood, and her short brown hair pulled back with a headband. Next to her, quivering, was another young girl, her fear stricken eyes flicking between Maka and the brunette, her red hair making it impossible to be inconspicuous.

"No..." The scythe fell from her hands, landing on the ground with a grunt. No, these children could not be responsible for Kid's disappearance, Maka would not believe it.

In the few seconds she stood there, the ginger grabbed the poor girls arm and sprinted away.

"Damn it, Maka! She was right there!" Soul stood up rubbing his head. She had not moved, still staring at the spot where the girl had been, like the witch had froze her in time.

"Maka!" Soul shouted at her. Turning her head, she met his eyes, her face red and the small stream of tears dripping from her chin.

"I can't kill children, Soul." Maka's voice cracked and Soul flinched.

After taking a second to compose herself, Maka spoke again.

"She was a witch but, unless we find further proof, I don't think she could've taken down a shinigami." Soul have her a weird look, but nodded thoughtfully.

"Perhaps, but that puts us back at square one. This is so uncool." Sighing, he followed Maka back, heading for the center of the city.

* * *

A young man looked out a window, his eyes looking past the scenery and into the recesses of his consciousness.

"Anthony, do you believe in God?" He turned his head a fraction of an inch, glancing at the boy sitting on the top bunk. Anthony, in return, shrugged.

"Why?" Martin ignored his question.

"What about angels?"

"What's gotten into you? Ever since you left that night, you've been weird." Anthony jumped down to stand next to Martin.

"Don't ignore me, mate." Martin turned to his friend, averting his eyes, he whispered.

"I saw one. An angel, I mean. She was real, I swear." Martin's voice steadily grew louder, desperation shone through his carefully guarded expression for the first time since the night he saw her.

"You have to believe me." He whispered again, the words left unsaid spoke more than the words he did. He needed Anthony to believe him, to reassure him of his sanity. Losing his memory, being made fun of, all the mysterious scars, not even knowing who he is, and now seeing things that logically could not exist, the pent up emotions burst forward in one torrential outburst.

"What's wrong with me!" He screamed, collapsing on the ground.

"Why can't I remember?" Getting up, he ran, not caring that he would be seen. Sprinting out the door, he disappeared in the crowd outside, maneuvering through the people like a master.

Reaching the center square, Martin paused. He had no need to catch his breath, for he was quite in shape, yet something compelled him to stop, if but for a moment. Turning his head to the right, his peripheral vision caught blond pigtails and emerald eyes.

* * *

Whatever compelled Martin seemed to drive Maka as well. With no true destination, she mindlessly wandered.

"Soul, go back to the house. I'll be fine on my own, I just need time to think." Soul opened his mouth to argue, but realized it would only scathe his partner's pride by claiming that he needed to protect her.

She was his meister, but she was also his sister in all but blood. No matter how much he teased her, there would always be an urge to shield her from the pain of the world. She was strong, though, and fully capable of being on her own, so he finally gave in.

"Just be back in time to make supper." Soul turned and strolled the opposite way, a feeling of unease creeping into his mind, tendrils of worry already forming.

In that moment, Maka turned her head towards the right, and emerald meet sapphire.

For Maka, the sight of the lookalike boy was bittersweet, her world slowing down to prolong the pain of what was lost, mocking her for what she desired.

For Martin, the sight of his angel was terrifying and awe inspiring, his world speeding up to match the beat of his heart, mocking him for what he could never have. And as they both stood there, mourning that which was naught, the world around them moved at it's ever steady pace, uncaring to the happenings of the individual.

* * *

"Well, doesn't this just pull on the heartstrings."

Cunning eyes looked down upon the sight of the duo. Sitting on one of the taller buildings was a witch, her hair several shades darker than her little sister's, Isis, who sat behind her. Positioned far enough from the two as to not be seen or heard, Sissy, or Cerella, spoke with an air of superiority.

"You did well to best a shinigami, but why did you not kill him when he was at your mercy? Why call me away from my coven to fix an avoidable problem?" Though not blatantly expressed, the words held an undercurrent of anger and disappointment.

"I didn't want to kill him, he wasn't mean!" Isis protested, "I thought erasing his memory was enough. I thought if I changed his appearances and put a spell on his DNA-"

"Foolish child!" Cerella chastised, "If you had killed him and placed the body where it would be found, they wouldn't be looking for him! You could have escaped or went undercover without worrying about petty memories and meisters."

With her rant finished, Cerella stood up. "You can resolve this problem yourself. Kill the shinigami and be done." She turned and walled away, leaving her sister crying silently.

"I don't want to kill anyone."


	6. Chapter 6

_With her rant finished, Cerella stood up. "You can resolve this problem yourself. Kill the shinigami and be done."__She turned and walled away, leaving her sister crying silently. _

_"I don't want to kill anyone."_

* * *

A curved figure sauntered through the doorway. The room was bright with the light of midday, the dust particles shimmered as they floated, undisturbed. The figure stepped into the room, her presence drew the darkness around her and the light could not reach her. The room looked duller with every second of her presence, like a cloud had passed over the sun.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor, echoing throughout the space. Reaching a closed door, she outstretched her hand so it almost brushed against the doorknob, a dark purple strike of lightning shot from her fingers, closing the small gap. The telltale click of a lock signaled that the room was now open to her scrutiny.

Opening said door, she entered the small room. The walls had shelves that were lined with magical trinkets, a table proudly sat in the middle. A black orb was placed on a pedestal in the middle of the table, the shades of grey swirling and shifting constantly, just below the surface.

Placing a towel on her hand, Cerella wrapped the orb up and placed it in her pocket. Smirking, she turned, locking the door behind her, leaving the way she came. The home was once more lit by the brilliant light of day.

* * *

Martin closed the distance between the two, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"You're real, I really saw you." His words confused Maka, of course she was real. She had no time to dwell on such a fact, however, when his voice truly sunk in. It was so similar to Kid's. This boy was his carbon copy, sans the lines of sanzu and the golden eyes. She looked away, the absence of her friend even more palpable.

Mistaking her reaction for disgust, he quickly apologized.

"I'm sorry! Someone like me shouldn't speak to someone as symmetrical as you." When she flinched, he felt like the scum of the earth.

"I'll just go-"

"What's your name?" Her hand grabbed his upper arm with a death grip, her eyes bore into him, like she could see into his very being.

She could, and she saw a normal human, no trace of abnormal abilities. Yet there was no way that he had no connection to her friend. There was too much circumstantial evidence.

"Martin, my name is Martin." He was thoroughly confused. This angel was beautiful and frightening at the same time. He wanted to flee from her and he wanted to run his fingers through her hair, to hide from her and to shield her from the world. These conflicting desires swirled in his mind, a conflict in which no side could gain the upper hand. It left him frozen on the spot.

Maka stared at him. There was no doubt, this boy was Kid. He had to be. His voice, his mannerisms, it all matched perfectly. But then why was he a human and not a shinigami? They had underestimated this witch, if she could drain everything that made Kid who he was and leave a shell.

Only someone who knew him personally could guess the truth, and Stein hadn't spoken to the boy, only observed from afar.

The two had moved into an ally as to not be heard, Maka's grip never faltering.

"My name is Maka." She finally spoke, the sun slowly sinking, signaling that the late spring day was drawing to a close, replaced by the breeze filled evening.

"Maka." Martin breathed the name like it was the last thing he would ever say. It sounded sweet on his tongue, foreign and familiar, an oxymoron. It sounded so normal, so easy to say.

"Are you an angel?" His enthusiasm was renewed, replacing the thoughtful, shy boy that stood there a second before.

Yet Maka could only stare, the question startling her. An angel? What the on earth was he taking about?

"Your wings! I saw them when we met last time. They were brilliant and symmetrical!" His eyes glittered with admiration, twinkling with interest.

People passed by the entrance, paying no mind to the pair, however odd they seemed. Only one seemed to linger, fear, uncertainty, and the signs of a hard decision etched onto her young face.

"I have no idea what your talking about, truly." Maka couldn't explain what he saw, but the way he looked at her gave her an odd feeling, one she wasn't sure she liked. She shivered, and the cool air might not have been the only reason.

"Are you..." Maka let the sentence fall unspoken, unsure what to say. She held no doubt in her mind that he was Kid, but now his fate was held in her hand. She feared that by telling 'Martin' her thoughts, he would think her insane, or worse, turn out to be bait from the enemy.

She let her hand drop and looked away. She would have to keep tabs on him without telling him why, but now the question was how.

* * *

They looked perfect together. Raven black and ash blond, blue that once gold staring down at green, death and life, they were perfect complements, and Isis didn't know if she could disturb that.

It was decided, she would return his memories and maybe, just maybe, the god of death would spare her.

With new found vigour, Isis sprinted home, her sister's words ignored. Sissy would be mad, of course, but maybe she would forgive her for not killing him. It just didn't seem right to the innocent girl.

By the time she opened the door to her family home, the sun barely peaked over the rolling hills in the distance, the red and orange glow of the sunset casting long shadows across the floor. She was in such a hurry to get to the orb, she failed to notice the residue of another's magic, the crackling of evil.

Opening the door to the small room, an office remodeled into a magic practice area, she started forward, apprehensive yet eager to do the right thing. Rebellion against her sister had never felt so thrilling. Damning the consequences, she went to grab her memory orb.

With a gasp, she took a step back in alarm and confusion, for where the shinigami's redemption once laid, there was only air.


	7. Chapter 7

**In response to TheRuntFromAbove's review: I'm sorry you were confused! I did have those answers revealed towards the end of this fic, but because of your confusion, I managed to fit in some of the answers to your questions in this chapter. For any ones I left out, you'll just have to wait, sorry! I have the majority of this already planned out and I don't want to change it all. Thank you though for expressing your concerns! I hope this clears any confusion and let's you enjoy my fic better.**

* * *

_With a gasp, she took a step back in alarm and confusion, for where the shinigami's redemption once laid, there was only air._

* * *

Isis collapsed, her situation truly crashing down upon her. Now that his memories were gone, she had no peace offering, nothing that would allow her to bargain for her life. The shinigami wouldn't remember and she would forever be hunted. Tears streaked down her face and she stayed on the floor for hours into the night, till she rose and prepared for bed.

Maka, realizing the sun was sinking and Soul was waiting, had asked Martin to meet her at the local Starbucks for some coffee at 4:00 tomorrow.

When she got to the house they were staying at, Soul was waiting, his hungry mouth watering at the prospect of food. Picking up an apron, she got to work, the aroma of a flavorful meal drifting through the home.

Martin had watched Maka leave, his eyes trailing her until she turned and he could see her no more. He couldn't simply walk back into the orphanage, they saw him leave and would surely make sure he didn't escape again, thus preventing him from meeting Maka tomorrow.

Maka. She was so different, and something seemed to scream inside of him when she was near, calling him to her. He was drawn to her like no other, her very presence made him calmer, silencing any worries and doubts. It made him forget where he was, his situation, and brought him peace if even for a moment. He was addicted, this angel of life bringing him pure serenity.

Heading back, he had an idea. He waited until nightfall, when all the kids were due in their rooms. Crouching, he stayed low till the sun sunk below the horizon. Then, striding forward, he leaned down and picked up a pebble, lobbing it at the window of his room. Anthony spread the curtains, his eyes scanning the scene before him. When he saw Martin, he threw up the window.

"Martin!?" He whispered out to his friend, who had walked forward and began to climb in the window.

"You freaked out earlier and the entire staff is looking for you. You're in huge trouble, mate." Anthony helped pull him in. Running to his bed, Anthony pulled out a granola bar and handed it to Martin.

"Thanks." He tore into the small 'dinner' and then went to bed. He would have to wake up before the staff found him there. Before he knew it, sleep's sweet tendrils wrapped their vines around his still body, claiming his mind, plunging him into the void of rest.

Darkness swirled in his vision. Endlessly falling to nowhere, he reached out his hand. It caught on a skull, a stark white mask contrasting the maddening darkness. He clung from it, a brief pause from the endless falling. The darkness began to focus and rush below the mask, then, like a mirror, it formed cloth and shape, reflecting a version of himself. White lines arced across its hair. It eyes opened and gold stared accusingly into blue.

"Martin!" He startled awake, the dream forgotten for now, and his vision focused until the face of his friend filled his vision. There was barely any light in the room, revealing that it was well before dawn.

"They'll be checking the rooms soon, so you better get lost of you if you want to avoid trouble." Martin nodded and thanked Anthony, who had become one of the few people he could trust fully.

"Did you see her again?" He asked.

"Yes, I did, and she is very real." Martin smiled at Anthony, genuinely happy despite the chaotic life he knew awaited him if he left again.

"Well, good luck, mate." Anthony watched him crawl out of the window and disappear into the depths of the city, praying that life would be kind to his friend.

"So you think that the lookalike is tied to Kid?" Soul asked Maka, his red eyes staring into her crimson ones, blood searching the sea green ocean for answers that neither had. Sighing, his hand reached up to rub the back of his neck.

"It makes sense, honestly. But instead of telling him, we're stalking him? It's pretty uncool." Soul's eyebrows rose, waiting for her opinion.

"It's not stalking! I just don't think it's a good idea to tell him about it, especially if it does turn out to just be a weird coincidence. If we are right, though, we'll want to know where he is." Maka finished, her arms crossed over her chest and her stance upright and formal.

"So you want to stalk him for his own good?"

"Maka Chop!" The force of the dictionary colliding with his head sent Soul flying to the ground, laying at the feet of a satisfied Maka. Huffing disdainfully, Maka set the book down and went to make breakfast. The day was sure to get interesting.

Isis somberly got up. It was a Saturday, so she had the entire day to herself. The room seemed to reflect her gloom, taking on a darker shade of grey, sharing in her loneliness. She went to the kitchen and fixed a bowl of cereal, ceremoniously eating it, like she was a shell of a human without a purpose.

She knew who took the orb, and it pained her to admit it, but she wasn't surprised. Ever since mom died, Sissy started to have an odd attitude towards Isis, her once cheerful remarks became sarcastic, her encouragement, scorn. She beat down on her sister like it was shameful that she was good at magic, yet she taught her regardless. It was mother's wish, after all. Isis never wanted to be a witch. The thought of fighting and destroying all life never appealed to her like it did her sister. Even her mother had calmed her destructive nature when she had children, deciding that it would be safer for them if they didn't have to worry about meisters from Shibusen. Cerella, however, had come to an age where she wanted to be a witch. She craved power and attention, a true moody teenager.

Isis wanted nothing to do with that life. When mother found out that the meisters had found her, she didn't want to fight. Instead, she gave Isis her powers. Decades of practice and skills honed through battles poured into Isis and, before the pawns of Shibusen arrived, she taught Isis enough to hide. Turning to Cerella, she instructed her to teach her little sister all she knew. The sisters escaped, but their mother had no powers left, and greeted death unarmed. Cerella hated Isis for what their mother did. She felt that the power flowing in Isis's blood should be hers. She was the one who practiced it, who wanted it, who could use it properly.

Now Isis had to hide or be killed, for she refused to harm someone else. It was a meticulous situation and Sissy knew it, orchestrated it even. Hanging her head, Isis mentally prepared herself for the long day ahead.

And the day was long.

Soul and Maka had left for a routine scan of the city to. After lunch, Soul watched some TV while Maka paced.

"Read a book or something, anything. Just stop pacing, its making me tense." Soul complained as he continued to flip through the channels. Maka picked up a book and sat down to read, her foot tapping impatiently on the wooden floor. Soul face-palmed, but said nothing more.

Soon it was 3:00 and Maka leaped up muttering something about preparing for Starbucks. 'Who dresses up for Starbucks?' Soul's inner monologue provided, but he shrugged it off as just a girl thing. When she came back, however, Soul became suspicious. She looked like a likeable girl, feminine and cute. Her hair was in it's normal pigtails, but braided. She wore a casual light blue sundress with a jean jacket over top. It pointed out her curves without being slutty or suggestive. Her feet were adorned with flats, casual, but cute overall. Soul didn't like it at all. She was acting like this was a date, which it wasn't, and while not jealous, he was very protective. So he did what he did best, he teased her.

"Hey tiny-tits, what're you getting dressed up for? Don't tell me you have someone to impress?" Soul jeered playfully.

At one time, Soul entertained the thought of the two of them being a couple, as did Maka. However, realizing the professional consequences should their relationship fail, they decided it wouldn't be with the risk. Eventually, they grew into a brother-sister relationship. But that didn't mean he didn't like boys noticing her.

Soul realized the consequences of his teasing when the dictionary met his head for the second time that day. Maka continued to glare at him as he rubbed his now sore head.

"I just wanted to wear this." Maka protested, her cheeks gaining a slight pink tint.

"Yea, well, I'll go change my shirt." Soul muttered indignantly, his head pounding with the start of a headache. The two walked to Starbucks with forced banter, their postures tense and anticipating.

Martin had wandered the streets, occasionally dozing on a bench to catch up on sleep. He pick pocketed a couple of bucks from some people and bought lunch at a fast food restaurant. The day crawled by. People barely gave him a glance, simply passing him off as some random teen. Despite his out of place hair and his lanky and awkward appearance, he seemed to possess some quality that let him blend in with crowds, seen but not noticed.

Leaving his bench, Martin headed to Starbucks, anxious to see his angel again.


End file.
